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Travis shoots. He hits him right in the knee. The scream that tears out of his lungs is satisfying as fuck. Calmly, knowing he’s probably scaring the shit out of the poor man beside him, Travis asks again, “Are you here on your own free will?”
“I - no! No, he - he bought me!” the man nearly sobs. “He bought me at an auction!”
“Does he have a weapon?”
“A gun. In the cushion.”
Just as the words register, Mica throws his body toward the chair he had been sitting in. Travis hurries forward and kicks the chair halfway across the room. Then he kicks Mica’s injured knee, making him crumple to the ground. He presses his boot against the back of Mica’s neck.
“What’s your name?” he asks the naked man.
“M-me?”
Travis nods, putting on his warmest smile even as he continues to stare at Mica. “Yes, you.”
“Zach.”
“Zach, can you help me?”
“I-I can try.”
“You can. I know you can.” Travis reaches with his free hand into his left cargo pocket and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. He reaches toward Zach and offers them to him. “I need you to put those on him while I keep the gun and my boot here. Nice and tight.”
Zach hesitates, but then he takes the handcuffs and kneels beside Mica.
“In case you’re too high to figure this out,” Travis says as Zach cautiously pulls Mica’s hands to the small of his back and secures the cuffs. “I was never on your side. Never. I was working for Maison Beckett the entire fucking time. I’m the reason everyone you know was killed or arrested. I’m the reason your life is ruined. I’m the reason you’re about to die.”
Mica jerks in his restraints. Zach scrambles back, whimpering, but the cuffs hold and Travis’s boot stays firm.
“Zach, you’re more than welcome to go upstairs now. My partner is up there. He’ll make sure you’re okay while I deal with this.”
Surprisingly, Zach doesn’t move.
Instead, the man inches forward and asks, “Will you make it hurt?”
Travis finally looks away from Mica, feeling confident he’s handled for now. Zach is fiddling with his collar with one hand, his other hand covering his exposed genitals. His eyes are wide as he stares at Travis and waits for the answer. “Yes. I will.”
“Don’t listen to him!” Mica spits. “Don’t trust him. He owned a slave too. Raped him right in front of me more than once. Whipped him bloody. He’s just as bad as me, even if he’s pretending he’s not.”
Zach flinches, taking a step away from Travis, his eyes suddenly wary. Guilt eats away at Travis’s gut. “He’s right. I had to do things, bad things, while undercover. But he did them for fun. And the worst I ever did, he’s done three times as bad.”
“You raped Beckett’s baby brother!” Mica laughs like a fucking maniac, this apparently just clicking for him. “He must have loved that!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Travis growls. He presses harder down on Mica’s neck. Part of him wants to stomp and end things now, but he promised himself he’d take his time with this man. For all of his victims. For all the times Travis had to watch.
For Carter.
And now for Zach.
There’s a creak on the stairs. Keats appears a moment later, his rifle still raised. He eyes the scene before smirking. “Place is clear.”
“This is Zach. Can you take him while I clean this mess up?”
“Absolutely.” Keats turns his focus to Zach, giving him a kind smile. He even lowers his rifle and grabs a blanket. He steps forward and offers it to Zach. “I’m Keats. I’m going to get you somewhere safe now, alright?”
Zach nods, cautiously taking the blanket and wrapping it around himself. They head out together.
When the door to the basement clicks shut, Travis lifts his boot and crouches down. He fists Mica’s hair and yanks until the man’s face is turned toward him. Mica is glaring. Travis grins. “Just you and me now, buddy. Ready to feel what your victims felt?”
